Wednesday, February 1


On Sunday I was sitting in the window of a new cafe on Elm St. in Davis Sq. Originally I was going to go into Starbucks and sit in a comfy chair and support "the man" but it was too crowded and so I decided to try this new place instead. I'm so glad I did.
I was sitting on a counter stool at the window counter reading and often gazing up to watch everyone walk by.
I saw sneakers. The shoe in between boots and sandals, a hope for warm weather to continue but an acknowledgment of the reality that it might not. They are practical and useful, but can be stylish and trendy. And everyone I saw walking by was wearing them- really- I looked for a while once I realized what was going on. It was as if the unseasonal warmth of the late January day had brought out this hope in people that they could put their boots in storage and start dusting off the sandals that had sat for so many months unused in the back of the closet or under the bed. The even more outstanding phenomena was that everyone had gotten this same urge to wear their sneakers that Sunday- even I had. Something had compelled me to choose them over every other shoe I own, and its a lot. I looked around at the other people in the cafe and they to had donned the shoe of the day.
I was literally staring at everyone's feet as they walked by into and out of Davis Sq. There was a bounce to people's steps and an excitement that the warm air had brought on.
Father's marched by with their young sons bouncing behind in their laced up Nikes. Groups of college girls strolled along, giggling in their sweatshirts and sneakers. Couples walked, sneakered, arms linked, looking for a good cup of coffee and a place to read the Sunday paper.
I sat, my sneakered feet swinging below me, head rested on my hand, watching the locals stroll by, happy to have found such a prime viewing location, happy I had my moleskin book and pen in hand. I had caught the sneaker bug too.

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